


New Patient

by badwolfofbakerstreet



Category: Hannibal (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal is gonna kill her, I have no idea, Moriarty Knows this, Oneshot, just a bit of randomness, mention of Irene adler, one on one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfofbakerstreet/pseuds/badwolfofbakerstreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has a new name in his appointment book, it's just three letters, a first name, nothing else. His 2:00 appointment for the day is a man named Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Patient

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a note on my phone quite a while ago that just said, "Moriarty goes for a therapy session" and that was it, I never did anything about it. So I started thinking, YEAH! And I wrote it, and yeah... Heh.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. It's just a little oneshot thing, isn't going to be anything more.

He had a 2:00 appointment with a man he’d never met before. If he wasn’t slowly turning his assistant into the best liver he’s ever had, he would have done away with her by now, she really was useless. She hadn’t even taken a last name for the man, and Hannibal had a rule, he needed the patient’s full name. How else was he going to research them thoroughly beforehand to see if they had any outstanding warrants?

He liked to be prepared. If the patient was clearly psychotic, it would be easier for him to work with them, to help them hone their craft, figure out their niche, before he took them out of the picture.

There was really only room for one serial killer in Northern Virginia, and he was it.

The seconds on the clock ticked by and Hannibal was getting restless. He breathed in deeply, a way to calm himself; it’s not that he was nervous, per se, he was just bothered. He didn’t get nervous, nor did he get frightened. There hadn’t been a person who was able to frighten him his entire life. That was quite possibly the slight sociopathic tendencies he had, but that’s beside the point.

2:00, a knock at the door; the new patient was right on time.

He stood with all his nerve completely in tact and moved towards the dark brown wooden door. He reached for the handle and gave it a firm twist, the newly opened doorway revealed a smiling man. His dark hair matched his black eyes which held a specific gleam; this man was dangerous, Hannibal could already tell, and he hadn’t even heard the mystery man speak.

Jim was his name, according to the three small letters scrawled into his appointment book. Hannibal stepped aside and bowed his head with a slight smile.

“Welcome, Jim. I’m Hannibal Lecter.” He held out a hand, welcoming the man into his office, his sanctuary, the main room of his memory palace. The man returned the slight bow and raised his brows as he walked into the room. His eyes immediately darted around, no doubt appraising the space. He turned back to Hannibal with the same smile, he was impressed.

“I know who you are.” He said, his voice was masking an Irish accent, though it was quite possible that only a man of Hannibal’s intelligence could hear it. He was very good, this man.

“I would assume so,” Hannibal smiled, “Or you would not have made an appointment with me.” He closed the door behind them and walked the short distance to the two black chairs that sat opposite each other, “Please,” He extended his hand, gesturing to the chair across from his, “Sit.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, waltzing to the black leather seat. Hannibal took in his appearance, this man was used to wearing much nicer clothes, but his current situation didn’t allow for that. He was wearing denim jeans and a black hoodie, there was a beanie stuffed into his pocket. He was hiding from something, trying to blend in.

“So, _Jim_ ,” Hannibal stressed the name, trying to show the man that he was unhappy with the lack of knowledge of his surname, he supposed he’d given his real first name, but was trying to hold back who he really was; he was definitely on the run from something, “What brings you to my office today?” He opened his book to take notes, his pen pressed against the paper, ready to record.

“I just wanted to meet you.” He shrugged, still looking around the office. He was sitting very straight in the chair, his arms on the armrests, his shoulders squared towards Hannibal, yet he wasn’t looking at him; this bothered Hannibal more than not knowing his name, he needed to look into the mans’ dark eyes to learn all of his secrets.

“Well now that you have, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here.” Hannibal jumped straight to the point, he knew that this person was not in his office for therapy. Jim looked at him then and winked, smiling again before dropping the act all together.

“You’re a quick one, you are.” He was no longer trying to hide his accent, but instead embraced it, there was a familiar lilt to it, Hannibal was busy trying to place it when the man giggled slightly, “But then, I knew you would be.”

“Did you hear of me through a friend, or-” Hannibal cut his question short, this man was much like himself, he didn’t have friends.

“I’ve heard some rumors.” He said plainly, “Thought I’d come see if they were true.”

“What were these rumors... Exactly?” Hannibal closed his book, realizing he wouldn’t need to take notes, though he kept his pen in his hand in case he needed a weapon, the letter opener on his desk was too far.

“The things you hear today.” Jim puffed out his cheeks at he tilted his head at the therapist, “They’re so unbelievable. I employed a man who said he’d met someone in Italy who taught him everything he knew. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that man was now living in America, working with the _FBI_ no less.”

Hannibal continued to smile across at his new ‘patient,’ there was nothing this man could say that would make him give himself up, though it seemed that this man already knew enough about him. So why was he here?

“What are you asking of me, Mr...?” Hannibal refused to allow himself to be revealed without knowing who’s doing the revealing. He would not admit to anything unless he knew this man’s true identity. This is a fact the man began to understand after a brief silence, the man leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of his face, just below the chin, as if he were presenting himself.

“Moriarty, Jim Moriarty.” He said, Hannibal blanched and blinked a few moments. He was not up to date with current events, or at least not as much as he should have been. His involvement with Will Graham was really closing his mind off to the world around him. He should have known who this man was. The way he said his name was more than just self-important. There should have been a weight to those words, “You have no idea who I am.” He laughed, Hannibal continued to stare.

“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me.” Hannibal leaned back and crossed his legs, he was tired of this game. The pen in his hand flipped between his fingers, he was itching to stab this man in his jugular and allow him to bleed out, he was sure there was some fine meat beneath those clothes.

“Woah, calm down.” Moriarty laughed to himself, “You’re getting antsy, I can tell. Don’t worry, I fully intend to reveal my intentions to you. I just wanted to see if you were as dangerous as they all said.”

“They all?” Hannibal asked, not liking the sound of his words.

“That doesn’t matter.” Moriarty shrugged, “I’ve come to employ you, not oust you.”

“Employ me where? I’ve got a job.”

“I’m a consulting criminal, Dr. Lecter.” Moriarty smiled slightly, though in contrast to his usual grin, this time he showed no teeth. It was more menacing somehow, “I am the man you go to in order to get things done. Flee the country, change your name, kill the maid, whatever your need, I can provide it.”

“I’m not in need of a consulting criminal, Mr. Moriarty.” Hannibal said simply.

“I knew a guy like you, once. Just as cold and calculating, just as naive. I could have employed him, but he was on the side of the angels. Boring.” He sighed, “I made him jump off a building, imagine what I could do to you.”

“I assure you, threats are no good here.” Hannibal said, the pen practically burning a hole into his hand, it would be so easy to end this mans life, yet there was still something intriguing him, what did this man have to offer?

“Not threatening, just informing.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, “I have a few... Issues... That need taking care of. I thought you would be the perfect man for the job.”

“And what sort of issues need taking care of?”

“A few people, loose ends that need tying. A certain former dominatrix who thought she could escape to America; I told her I’d skin her, she didn’t believe me.” He drawled as if it were a conversation about stocks and Hannibal was his broker; Hannibal’s heart sped up for a brief moment before he swallowed down the excitement. So this man wanted to employ him to do what he did best; he was going to have a dinner party soon.

“So these jobs are all in America?” Hannibal asked, “No associates in England you need me to take care of?”

“The associates in Europe have already been taken care of. I have to figure out who, therefor I don’t have the time to get rid of the ones over here, across the pond, over yonder.” His accent slipped into a forced southern drawl, Hannibal was not amused. Though he rarely ever was.

“And if I refuse?” Hannibal asked, though he was sure what this consulting criminal would say.

“You know the answer to that already, Dr. Lecter.” Moriarty smiled, “I won’t kill you, but I will turn you in. The Chesapeake Ripper. Fitting title. Love your work.” His eyes widened for a moment as he stared across at the therapist. Hannibal barely flinched, he wasn’t afraid of being captured. He knew where he could dwell while he wasted away in a damp cell.

“Your threats are meaningless. There is nothing I fear. Kill me, I don’t care. But know that if you try, there are very few things I’m incapable of; defending myself is not one of them.”

“Oh hoh!” Moriarty practically cheered as he scrunched himself up briefly in his chair, clapping his hands together, he was amused by Dr. Lecter, this frustrated him. He blinked across at the man, not showing his irritation, “You’re feisty! I like you!”

“Thank you.” Hannibal said plainly.

“So what do you think? Wanna kill the Woman and some associates of mine? I’m sure you could pair their livers with something delicious.” Moriarty was practically grinning by the end of his sentence.

“How-” Hannibal didn’t like being out of the loop, he was quite possibly always knowledgable, and now he was in the dark, “How do you know so much about me?”

“I’ve been watching you for years.” Moriarty shrugged, “I like to keep my eyes on the prize. I’m a big fan.” He smiled, “Freddie Lounds is my main source. That website of hers.” He puffed out his cheeks and held up a few fingers, he seemed to be impressed, though it could be sarcasm. This was not something Hannibal was good at understanding.

“If I do these things for you, is there a catch?” Hannibal tilted his head as his eyes narrowed, “When will the proverbial shoe drop?”

“I might call in a favor or two in the future. But know this, if you do this for me... I will owe you a couple favors as well. And I am a man you want on your side. When I return favors, I return them big.” Moriarty stood up, holding out one hand to Hannibal, “Do we have a deal?”

Hannibal stood, straightening out his jacket as he buttoned it. He took a moment to consider this man, the consulting criminal. Now that he thought about it, he’d heard those words before, but the second word was different. He hadn’t heard of a criminal, but a detective, in London.

A consulting detective who’d jumped off a building to his death after being proven a fake. Hannibal smiled as he he reached out and took Moriarty’s hand into his. Yes, he thought, perhaps this man was someone he wanted on his side. To owe him.

“My next appointment is almost here.” Hannibal said, looking at the clock after Moriarty gave him the details of his next victim. Irene Adler, living on a farm in Wisconsin. Deep undercover. She was hiding from him. But that didn’t work, not even Sherlock Holmes could hide her well enough.

“Ah, yes. Will Graham.” Moriarty said, half smiling, “I heard he got out of the institution recently. They proved that he wasn’t the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Yes, it was quite astounding, the evidence they found that exonerated him.” Hannibal smiled, Moriarty raised his brows.

“Be careful with obsessions, Dr. Lecter... They might be the death of you.” Moriarty winked as he turned and headed for the door of the office. Hannibal stood still for a moment before he followed him. Without another word Jim Moriarty left his office, he watched him go with a small smile as he imagined the ways he could take out Irene Adler and be home in time for dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> So if you read this and you're like, "HELL YEAH THAT'S AN AWESOME PAIRING I WANT HANNIBAL AND MORIARTY TO BE WORKING TOGETHER HOLY SHIT" and you wanna write something, DO IT!!!! Doooo itttttt. 
> 
> And then tell me so I can read it. 
> 
> ^_^


End file.
